


It's kind of a long story

by thisisarandomuser



Series: Broadchurch Fics [4]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Alec Hardy Needs A Hug, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Post-Season/Series 03, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 04:30:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20772575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisarandomuser/pseuds/thisisarandomuser
Summary: Alec finds himself at the cliffs at night and Ellie gets a call from Daisy.





	It's kind of a long story

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for referenced suicide attempts, referenced alcoholism, and referenced physical abuse.
> 
> I'm currently on a run and have too much time on my hands. And Alec Hardy owns my heart.
> 
> Writing advice always appreciated.

It was dark. The waves were crashing onto the beach, Hardy could hear them quite clearly. No wonder, it was quiet except for that. The cold wind was blowing through his hair, his jacket barely able to keep him warm, but it didn't matter. Not really. He could see his house from where he was standing on the cliffs, see the light in the living room, meaning that Daisy was still up, probably watching one of those tv shows of hers. He knew he should be home with her. He spent enough time at work already and now that they'd just solved their case, he should be home with her and just relax a little and watch her stupid shows with her and eat unhealthy amounts of crisps and drink unhealthy amounts soda. He could now again with the pacemaker. He shouldn't do it too often, but once in a while wouldn't kill him. But he didn't feel like it. Couldn't be bothered with people today. He already had to talk to so many bloody stupid people at work today, he just needed to he alone. 

Of course he couldn't.

'Hardy?'

He turned around, careful not to step too close to the cliff edge.

'Hardy! What are you doing up here?'

It was Miller. Of course it was Miller. It was always bloody Miller. He could barely make out her form in the dark, but no one else would wear this bloody orange parka. Her hair was whipping around her face in the wind and she tried to put it behind her eyes without much success. He turned back to watch the sea again.

'Could ask you the same bloody question, Miller.'

Miller came closer, came to halt next to him. She held out a paper cup of presumably tea to him. He raised an eyebrow.

'It's tea. Just take it, idiot.'

He did, felt the heat of the tea through the thin cup against his cold fingers. He took a sip. 

'What are you doing in the middle of the night up on the cliffs?', Miller asked again. 'It's dangerous. One wrong step and you're falling.'

Hardy shrugged. 

'I know.'

He didn't know how to answer her question. There wasn't an actual reason for him being up on the cliffs. He could be sulking in his bed at home just the same and it would be considerably more comfortable and less cold and less dangerous. But something had drawn him here tonight. He'd told Daisy he'd go out for a while, that he didn't know for how long he'd be out and not to wait for him. She had asked if everything was alright and he'd just nodded, not wanting her to worry and not trusting himself to find the right words to stop her worrying while still being honest. There was nothing to worry about, he told himself. Not really. He just needed some peace and quiet.

'Are you alright, sir?'

'We're not working. No need to call me sir, Miller.'

'You're avoiding my question.'

Miller looked at him, but he didn't look back, still staring at the waves crashing hundreds of feet below. He mumbled a quiet 'I know' but it had to have been unintelligible for Miller who promptly asked again.

'What?'

'I know,' he repeated, a little bit louder. He was quiet for a few seconds, then added: 'What are you doing here, Miller?'

She sighed.

'Daisy called me. Said she was worried about you. And that you'd gone for a walk.'

'And then she set you up to look for me?'

'Yes. Well, sort of.'

'Sort of?'

She sighed. Hardy glanced at her.

'You're ganging up on me with my daughter?'

The pitch of her voice rose, making her sound just the slightest bit (okay, that was a lie) defensive.

'It's not like you don't need it. You barely look after yourself and it's got worse over the past few weeks.'

He grumbled. He knew that she was right. He hadn't eaten a lot in the past weeks. Hadn't slept a lot either. Not that that was anything new, but maybe he'd let it get a little bit worse than before, he supposed. His frame was skinnier than ever, the bags under his eyes dark, witnesses of the many hours he'd spent awake after nightmares. But somehow, he couldn't get himself to care. That wasn't good, he was aware. Then again, there was nothing he could do about it. He sipped the tea again, held it out to offer it to Miller who just shook her head. 

'I didn't know Daisy had your number,' he then said.

He didn't miss the short pause before her answer.

'It's kind of a long story.'

'Don't know about you, but I don't have any more plans for tonight.'

She seemed to contemplate what to say for a minute before answering.

'Tess gave it to her.'

'What? When?'

'When you two moved here.'

He furrowed his brows, not knowing what he should think of this but knowing for sure that he didn't like it.

'What would she do that for?'

There was longer pause this time before Miller spoke 

'Tess - well, she texted me and said that she needed to talk to me. I had no idea what we possibly had to talk about, Sandbrook had been closed for a while already, I didn't even know she still had my number. But I agreed. She told me about your - your past mental health issues.'

He groaned. He hadn't wanted anyone in Broadchurch to know and Miller had already enough problems on her own. It had taken enough time for the town to accept her back again and they still hadn't forgotten about her ex-husband and even though the most difficult time was over now, there were new problems. Raising a teenager in this day and age wasn't easy (not that he thought that it had ever been easy but shit, those bloody phones), he knew that from experience. And he was almost a hundred percent sure that Daisy gave him an easier time than Tom gave Miller.

'Bloody Tess. She had no right to do that.'

'No, she did. She was right, someone needed to know.'

Hardy shook his head.

'She wasn't. Not anybody's business but mine.'

'It's Daisy's as well, you know. And it's distressing for her.' Miller sounded as if she was pissed, but desperately trying to keep it out of her voice. It wasn't working very well. 'Having someone to call who can be there in fifteen minutes just in case can be helpful.'

Hardy took another sip, swallowed.

'I hate that you're right.'

It was quiet between them for a few minutes, the waves the only sound that could be heard. Hardy listened to them, saw them shine in the moonlight. 

'Hardy,' Miller started, after a while, paused for a second, started again. 'Alec. You didn't come here to jump, right?'

Hardy shrugged. Not really. Wouldn't have minded falling all that much, to be honest. But then Daisy would have been alone. He didn't want that. Couldn't leave her. He'd lost his mum when he was fourteen and it had left its mark on him. Left its mark on his dad, too. The alcohol had made him an entirely different person. Made him violent. Hardy barely remembered the first time his dad had hit him after his mum's death (there were times before, but they were nothing but flashy pictures in his head), his brain had clouded the memory, and he was grateful for that. He only remembered the throbbing pain on his cheek and at the back of his head where it had banged against the wall. His first suicide attempt followed shortly after. 

He didn't want Daisy to lose him. Didn't want any child to lose their parent, really. 

'Don't know what I came here for. Jumping wasn't really in the plan, though. And don't call me Alec.'

'Alright. And that's good. That you didn't want to - you know.'

She was becoming awkward. People did that, they didn't know how to talk about mental illness, depression, suicides. That was one of the reasons why he never told people. He suddenly became hyper-aware that she was watching him, felt as if he could feel her eyes on him and it made him uncomfortable. It felt as if she looked at him entirely differently. People always did after they got to know about it. As if they couldn't think of anything but what they called his 'tragic past' when they looked at him. Stupid, really. He'd done so much to build a new life, to be a good person, someone who is not defined by their past. He couldn't help that his issues caught up with him every once in a while, but he'd done his best to keep it a secret after he'd moved away from Scotland and until now it had worked quite well. For years, only Tess and his father, who Hardy had to a certain degree reconciled with after he had managed to get his alcoholism under control, had known. Doctors mostly knew, too. They could read it in his medical records. Then Daisy. He couldn't really hide it after his third attempt, she was too old to keep it secret from her. And now Miller. It occurred to him that she must have known for months. Maybe it was just his imagination telling him that she looked at him differently. Didn't matter, it made him uncomfortable anyway.

'Tess told me about your mum. I'm sorry about it. Must have been hard.'

'If you think you'll get me to tell you 'my story' or whatever, you're wrong.'

He made sure to let his voice show how much he hated calling it his 'story'. Wouldn't be good if Miller picked up on using that worked. Would be bloody awful, in fact.

'Please?' 

'No, Miller. Not right now.'

He didn't want to tell her. He also wasn't sure he wanted her to know. He didn't even bloody know how much Tess had told her already and he hated that. Made him feel like he wasn't in control. And he hated losing control.

Miller sighed.

'Come on. We'll get you home, away from this bloody cliff and to your daughter. She's worried.'

Hardy hesitated, nodded finally. He saw the hand Ellie offered him, stared at it for a good five seconds.

'What's this for?'

'Just making sure you don't make a run for it. Or change your mind about jumping.'

'I won't.'

'Oh, please just take it. This is making me bloody nervous.'

'Why?'

'Cause I don't want you to die, you bloody twat! Now, please.'

He took her hand. The answer was a quiet, but very pissed 'Thank you.'

His mind wandered while Ellie was slowly leading him down, the hills, back to the street and then the path leading up to his house. He made a mental note to shout at Tess the next time he saw her. And then thank her. Maybe. If she wasn't an asshole that day.


End file.
